Somos como las cebras, rayadas y difíciles de montar.



sábado, 4 de julio de 2009

And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed, just to get it all out what's in my head. And I am feeling a little peculiar. And so I wake in the morning, and I step outside. And I take a deep breath, and I get real high. And I scream at the top of my lungs: What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey. I said hey, what's going on?

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